


The Origins of Roman Torchwick

by QuailQuill



Category: RWBY
Genre: Explicit Language, Faunus Roman Torchwick, Gen, Genderfluid Character, Genderfluid Roman Torchwick, Heavy Subject Matter, Origin Story, Trans Character, Trans Neopolitan
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-04
Updated: 2017-08-09
Packaged: 2018-12-11 05:29:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,547
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11707770
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/QuailQuill/pseuds/QuailQuill
Summary: The writer's never gave Roman Torchwick a background or depth, so I'm going to do that. This story is about where Roman came from, his early life, and his platonic relationship with Neo. Warning for strong language, and slightly heavy subject matter, because the Rooster Teeth writers are cowards so I have to do this for them. Nothing explicit here though.





	1. Chapter 1

“Miss Clementine, if you would, your mother requests that you perhaps make some time for your studies after breakfast, she suggests perhaps math for today.” said Mr.Amble, softly. Mr.Amble was an aging man, but always kept himself in the most prim and upright manner- his clothes never had a wrinkle, his hair never strayed away from his coif. Mr. Amble had to keep up these appearances, for he was the butler to the Hatchet family- one of the most well respected families in all of Mistral. 

“Mother’s having guests over again, isn’t she.” Clementine replied. Clementine was as well kept as the butler, dressed in a estately clean dress, a cloth hat that seemed nearly clamped to her, and with her smooth orange hair that draped to her waist tied in the back with a matching bow. Her eyes were a striking green, but one she kept hidden under a swath of hair that swooped neatly over her eye, and then back into the rest of the hair. Clementine’s expression was grim; she had learned to keep her emotions in check long ago, it was part of being a Hatchet. The butler merely nodded, a surprisingly sheepish look from a normally stately man. 

Clementine looked over to her little sister, who seemed to be happily playing in the parlor with her dolls in hand. Clementine looked back to the butler, grabbed her toast, and walked back up to her room. 

The staff treated her just as nicely as her sister, well, at least Mr. Amble did, but her parents didn’t as much. Her father ignored her, and her mother seemed scared to touch her most days. Once Clementine got to her room, she untied her hat, nearly ripping the thing off and throwing it to the ground. Large ears, donkey ears, uncurled themselves from underneath, twitching slightly as they were brought back into the air. 

Clementine was a bastard, and she didn’t mean that as the insult, even though she might agree with that too. Clementine’s mother had been drunk and lonely, her husband had been away, and the gardener had been available. When Clementine had been born, there was no hiding whose child it was, her ears had made sure of that. Her father, or, more accurately, Mr. Hatchet, had just quietly looked at her, told Mr. Amble to fire the gardener, and never said anything more. Her mother drank more, and the two never quite looked at each other the same, but the next daughter came out with the husband’s hair and looks, and no ears, and that had been that. 

Clementine was hid away while guests were here, for she was an unseemly reminder, and her sister Hazel was flounced and toted in front of guests, for she was a strong symbol of the proper Hatchet lineage. 

Sometimes Clementine just wanted to cut her stupid ears off. 

Now that mother was having guests, no one would bother Clementine for the rest of the day, they would all be too busy, and frankly, too embarassed to. Clementine’s room was simple, yet fine- a desk, a bed, a wardrobe. Years ago, the wardrobe had a panel underneath come loose, revealing a craggy hole underneath, where things could be hidden. Clementine went to it and pulled out the loose board, letting it clunk softly on the floor besides her. 

Inside were a few trinkets she had bought, for Mr and Mrs. Hatchet always seem to leave some money drifting around. She pulled out a few bits of clothing from the stash, and put the board back over the hole. She tugged off her dress, folding it neatly and placing it underneath her bed, undid her hair tie, and started to redress in her commoner clothes. 

She took out a snug sports bra, and carefully removed the cups. She slipped it on, letting it mush down her chest as she gave a soft smile. She threw on a baggy tshirt and jeans on, smiling at herself in the mirror. She slipped on an army green jacket, and carefully tucked her hair and ears into a beanie, letting the small swath still swoop down to cover her one eye. She popped her jacket collar, grabbed her scroll, threw open the window, and hopped out her second story bedroom, delicately balancing on the fence below. 

She, well, on this day she preferred he, although that was not always true, carefully escaped the estate and made his way to the city streets. The sun was still newly bobbing above the horizon, it's yellow strands lazily reaching into the swirls of pink in the sky. The city was still slowly waking up as well, the people in it still clutched to to go cups of coffee, the normal resounding beat of feet and cars slowed to a sleepy meandering rhythm. 

Clementine wandered around the streets, before settling on wandering into a small corner store. The clerk inside, a ruffled teen, was staring softly out to the street, only giving a soft flick of her eyes to the door as Clementine walked in. The teen let out a rumbling sigh, and looked back out the windows, of which was somewhat obscured by metal bars that were placed like a grate in front of the glass. 

Clementine treaded over to the candy aisle, a banished item in his home, and peeked up at the security camera that stared silently from the corner of the room. He adjusted himself to be just out of view, and slipped two candy bars into his pocket. He wandered around for a little bit, and finally bought a small can of soda, for the refrigerated doors were a lot harder to steal from. And it's not like he didn’t have the money, it's just that stealing was fun. 

The teen kept the same expression throughout the entire exchange, and returned back to her window staring as Clementine left. The sun had creeped a little farther on the horizon, the dusty blue brightening as the pink fell to the edge of the horizon, slowly slipping away. Clementine turned down some alleyways, hopped up some ladders, and ended up on a roof, overlooking the city, watching as the rhythm it beat slowly evened out. He opened up the soda and a candy bar, and sat. 

Clementine was about halfway through the can and a third of the way through the bar when he heard something behind him, and saw two mismatched eyes peer from behind an air conditioner unit. A girl was staring intently at the candy bar Clementine held. Clementine sighed, laid the second bar beside him, and pushed it over to the girl. The girl quickly snatched up the treat, a flurry of pink and brown and white that quickly ducked back behind the air conditioner. Clementine snorted and stared back at the city. 

As the pink of the sky finally receded away, and the blue grew bright and boisterous, Clementine stretched, and looked down at a small trashcan below him. He held out his hand and dropped the can. It made it. He held out his candy wrapper and dropped it. It floated away in the wind. Clementine huffed and then shrugged, taking the ladder back down to the alley way. 

As he got down there, a group of rapscallion kids seemed to be gambling in the alleyway, with what seemed to be dice. Clementine didn’t know that anyone played that anymore. Clementine kept his head down and walked away, but some of the kids shouted at him. 

“Hey, punk!” One shouted. Clementine quizzically raised his eyebrows, because seriously did anyone say punk anymore what century were these kids from. “Hey kid, I’m talking to you.” Clementine turned around. “Is this yours?” One of the kids held up a candy wrapper. Shit. That was his.

“Littering is bad.” One of the kids said, his voice without a trace of humor. 

“Uh...Sorry.” Clementine said, trying to lower his voice and speak from his chest. His voice was still a little too high, a little too feminine. Clementine frowned slightly and turned around, trying to leave. 

“Hey, we’re just messing with you kid.” One of the kids said, reaching out to Clementine, tugging at his beanie. The beanie fell, and his hair tumbled out, swishing with a dramatic flair back to his waist, and his ears poked back into the half shadowed sunshine. Silence stood quietly in between the two parties, finally being broken as one of the kids spoke. 

“Are you trying to pretend like you’re a real person, like us you dirty faunus.” The tone was flat, a knife’s edge hidden in the ways the kid spat out the syllables. 

“You know a faunus robbed my aunt last week, you know him donkey-girl?” said another kid. Clementine winced at the words. 

“You know not all of us know each other. And I’m a boy.” he said, dragging his voice down into a menacing rumble. 

“Oh, it's a queer too, huh.” The kid speaking this time seemed to be the small gang’s leader. The kid sneered and flipped out a switchblade. Clementine turned around at the sound, the small piece of hair that blocked his one eye floating away. His eyes locked with the leader, and his previously covered eye glowed a bright red, matching the cherry colored eyes of the leader. 

Clementine couldn’t control his semblance well, or actually, at all. His simple solution was to cover up that eye and not to look people in the eye if possible. As the two stared at eachother, Clementine could feel the leader’s hatred, a hazy feeling of disgust, pride, and nervousness passed through him. He could see the vague plans floating through the leader’s head, he could feel the violence, he could hear the muffled thoughts, the want of the kid to show the other kids that he was tough, that he was a leader, that they were better than this faunus, than Clementine. Clementine’s hair settled back over his eye, and the red faded back to green.

“You’ll regret your sassy tone you thieving fag.” The leader hissed. Clementine’s face spread into a panicked look, and he took a step back, balancing on the balls of his feet, ready to book it out of the alley. The crowd of kids seemed to encircle him. Shit. The leader started to strut forward, a grin spreading on his lips. Fuck. The kid lunged at him, but before Clementine a blur of brown and pink and white was standing, holding an old umbrella that was tattered with holes, blocking off the blow. The girl immediately went on the offensive, driving the umbrella into the leader’s knees. 

The leader cried out in pain, his eyes narrowing at the small girl. “You bi-” He was interrupted at the umbrella smacked his face so hard that the handle bent a little. The leader staggered back, and another couple kids swung their fists at the girl. The girl ducked, pushed up the umbrella, letting the unfurled nylon block their fists, and pushed back, letting the kids fall to the concrete. She closed the umbrella and swung it back around, hitting another kid in the jaw. 

“Damn faunus can’t even fight their own battles.” The leader grumbled as he staggered back to his feet, and spat at the ground. The spit was almost all blood, and one small tooth. The leader looked panicked. “Oh shit.” he said. “My tooth.” He stared at it. “My mom’s going to kill me.” he whispered. “Shit.” he hissed, panic rising in his voice.

The girl grabbed Clementine by the sleeve, and pushed the beanie into his hand. The girl dashed off in the confusion, dragging Clementine with her in a miasma of alleyways, until she stopped next to a small pile of garbage in a completed shaded alley. Clementine could barely hear the street from here. 

“Thanks.” he whispered, tucking his ears and hair back into his beanie. The girl sat down on a blanket that sat upon a small pile of newspaper, and patted the ground next to her. Clementine sat down as instructed. The girl rummaged around and brought up a pen and paper. She scribbled on it, and passed it to Clementine. 

“Thank you for the candy. It was tasty.” it said. 

“Uh. You’re welcome,” Clementine said. “Thanks for beating up those people.” Clementine passed the notebook back. The girl scribbled on it. 

“My pleasure.” Clementine snorted. He rather liked this girl. 

“I’m Roman.” he said, holding out his hand. He had never told anyone his chosen name before, for in truth he rather hated the name Clementine, but this girl felt special. The girl shook his hand, and then scribbled on the paper again. 

“I don’t like my name. It’s a boy's name, but I’m not a boy.” Roman looked at the girl. Ah. Now he really liked this kid. Roman pondered for a second, narrowing his eyes at the girl.

“How about Neo, like for Neopolitan. You kinda look like the ice cream.” he said. Neo smiled and nodded, and then wrote on the paper,

“I like that. Thank you.” Roman chuckled. 

“Hey, how about as a celebration, we go steal some to eat.” Neo’s face broke into a grin and she nodded vigorously. Roman had a feeling that this was going to be a good partnership.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Crime happens.

Roman’s scroll pinged. He was laying in his bed, his dress haphazardly hiked up, pushed back by his bent knees. Even if he didn’t get to be seen by the outside world, he still had to be dressed properly and not in pajamas, it was something about common decency according to Mr. Amble. The ping was a text from Neo, whom he had bought a cheap scroll for, one of the ones that easy to buy, and hard to track. They had pickpocketed for weeks to get it, trailing behind airheaded ladies and gentlemen that were much too busy with other things to pay attention to their purses. 

The text was a picture of a cat laying on a fence, with a blurry hand barely identified as Neo’s pointing to it. The caption of the text was just the word “cat.” Roman sent back a smiley face and the word cute. Most of their conversations were like this. 

There was a light, somewhat hesitant knock on the door, yet the knock was still firm in its intention. “Come in Mr. Amble.” Roman said, sitting up and pulling down his dress. The door swung open and Mr. Amble stepped in with his matter of fact way. 

“Miss Clementine, Lady Hatchet and Miss Hazel are going to be out this evening.” Roman nodded. 

“The Opera right, Hazel won’t stop talking about it.” Roman gave a soft smile. The smile was quite sincere, for Roman still loved his sister even if he didn’t love the rest of his family. Roman’s ear twitched, flouncing a lavender strand into a soft swoop before it settled back down. 

Hazel loved to tie bows in his ears, and always told him they were cute and that she wished she had cute ears too. Maybe one day she would understand what the ears meant, but for now, she tried making paper versions of them so she could match Roman. The servants always seemed worried as she did so, trying not to look. Once, Hazel had come up to their mother with the ears on, and her mother had merely excused herself to another room. Hazel didn’t understand why. 

“Yes Miss Clementine. The staff was wondering if you would like to join us for dinner and some cards, we thought it might be fun.”

“Mother doesn’t approve of cards.” Roman said, the soft smile turning into a sly grin. 

“Lady Hatchet will be out for the evening.” Mr. Amble’s voice, nor expression changed, but Roman could see a slight twinkle in his eye. Roman let out a small laugh. 

“I would be delighted to, but only a few rounds of cards I’m afraid. I’m awfully tired, so I think I’m going to turn in early tonight.” 

“As you wish Miss Clementine, dinner is in fifteen minutes.” Mr. Amble left the room as neatly as he entered, only a soft click sounding as the door closed. Roman flopped back down on the bed, and brought up his scroll. 

Roman: Neo!

Neo: Roman!

Roman: Rdy for plan Juno 

Neo: You mean the rob the opera while they’re busy plan

Roman: Let me have  
My cool code names  
Plz  
I have spent so long on the pland  
Plans

Neo: :/  
Roman: ok so  
First  
Give me like an hour or so idk  
I’ll txt u later when I leave  
Also hey do u want some food I can bring u som

Neo: yis

Roman: Ok.  
After that we meet up usual location  
Make sure u have everything rdy  
Imma send u a checklist  
:)

Roman typed out a short list and put his scroll away, walking downstairs as he finished. 

\----

“Hey shortstack.” Roman cooed, tossing a lump of bread at Neo. Neo caught it with ease and tossed Roman a small bag, which Roman fumbled to catch. Neo pulled out her scroll and typed to Roman one handed while she bit into the bread. 

_You sure about this one? It seems more risky than what we normally go for._

“I thought you liked risky.”

_I do.  
But are you sure you do? ___

__“I have been planning this for weeks Neo.” Roman drew himself up into a confident stance. “One, I know that the place is short staffed, due to my mom and the lady in charge of the opera house being friends and blah blah they are loud while gossiping, Two, I also know they don’t want the people who are attending the opera to know that they’re on rough times, so almost all the staff will be up front for impressions. Three, we have the full schematic of the building and its weird they just keep that on file in the library but whatever. Four, we have all this stuff.” Roman jingled the bag, letting it clink into the tepid night air._ _

__“And five, I have you.” Neo rolled her eyes, but smiled anyway. “Also this is the perfect plan I am so great.” Neo thumped Roman and narrowed her eyes at him._ _

__“Ow.” Roman protested. He shuffled the bag onto his shoulders. “Let’s go.”_ _

__The Opera House was seemingly devoid of people, but it emanated the soft sound of singing from within._ _

__“Too many people are at the front, I have a side way in, its like a fire exit or something, cmon.” Roman whispered. Roman was dressed in all black, a back shirt cropped to mid forearm, black gloves, a black beanie, and even a little bit of black makeup, but that part seemed more for style than stealth._ _

__Neo, however, was dressed in a bright, formal dress, one of Roman’s old ones, and was cleaned up to look just as noble and pristine as any of the other kids attending the opera._ _

__They slipped into the door without much problem, the only two people they saw were in front of the entrance to the performance hall, most likely to keep people from interrupting the performance. Roman and Neo neatly slipped around them, and slunk off towards a back hallway. A sign on the wall held up several arrows._ _

___Bathrooms ←_  
Performance hall ←  
Offices → 

__Roman pointed to the right and they treaded carefully down the hallway until they heard muffled whispers that floated out of a closed door labeled,_ _

__M A I N O F F I C E_ _

__“-in shambles, Rosemary! We won’t be able to afford new chandeliers next year if this continues- and four of them are already partially dark!” The first voice was shrill, and Roman immediately recognized it as his mother’s friend, the one who owned the opera._ _

__“Have you ever considered replacing just the lightbulbs instead of replacing the entire chandelier, Miss Willow?” This voice was much softer, and was presumably Rosemary’s._ _

__“What? How tacky! No, I would never!”_ _

__“Miss Willow we just need a bit of rearranging in our financial spending and we sh-” Miss Willow started weeping._ _

__“If only father were here, he would know what to do.”_ _

__“He’s only at the beach for the weekend Miss Willow-”_ _

__Roman swiveled his head towards Neo, and gave her a nod as he slipped into a supply closet, leaving it open a smidge to watch. Neo walked a little bit behind the door, and started bawling. The whispers stopped. The tapping of feet grew closer, and the door clicked open. Miss Willow and the other woman, Rosemary, stood in the doorway. Neo started crying harder. Tears streaked down her cheeks. Roman really quite admired her acting skill._ _

__“Oh little girl, where’s your mommy?” Rosemary asked, kneeling down to Neo. Neo answered with sobs._ _

__“Oh you poor girl!” Miss Willow exclaimed, her own tears miraculously gone. “We will amend this immediately, come along.” Miss willow grabbed Neo by the hand and strutted off as the other woman struggled to catch up._ _

__“Miss Willow, don’t you think we should ask questions first? Miss Willow?” The three girls grew farther away, and Roman slipped back into the hallway. He walked into the office, an extravagant affair with velvet drapes and overly embellished furniture, and immediately spotted the big safe that lay behind the desk. Roman smirked. He had been reading about safe cracking for months now, and was excited to try it out. He took out some tools from the bag and plopped down in front of the metal box._ _

__“Easy peasy” he whispered, holding up a stethoscope to the side. He started turning the dial. Nothing. Wait. What was he actually looking for. Uhm. Wait. He turned the dial some more. A couple minutes passed. Hmm, was that, was that the noise? Roman pulled out his scroll, typing in some questions. Oh. Maybe that wasn’t the noise. Uh, wait what kind of safe was this?_ _

__“Excuse me? What do you think you are doing?” Miss Willow’s voice screeched behind him. Oh, he had forgotten to close the door. Shit._ _

__“Haha, well you see M’am I…it’s….. well you see my mother….um….school?” Shit._ _

__“School? Young woman if you even knew half the trouble I already have in my life you-” Wait. Roman had an idea. Roman turned around and tucked the hair swooped over his eye behind his ear. His eye flashed to the deep brown, matching that of Miss Willow’s eyes._ _

__Feeling swept into him, an overwhelming fear, a need, a need to be seen and to be listened to, fear about life and chandeliers and business. A want for style, for admiration. A want for love._ _

__“Does she know?” Roman asked._ _

__“I beg your pardon?”_ _

__“Rosemary, does she know about your feelings for her?”_ _

__Neo walked back into the office sometime later, having evaded her escort, to see Roman and Miss Willow sitting on the couch. Roman had Miss Willow’s hands held in his own._ _

__“I just- I fear if there’s no reason for her to be here, she’ll leave.” Miss Willow was crying._ _

__“I think you just need to be honest with each other.” Roman darted his eyes to Neo, and gave a slight tilt of his head towards the abandoned safe. Neo looked puzzled, but softly walked over there._ _

__The two conversed a while, until Rosemary walked back in._ _

__“Miss Willow that young lady seems to have- oh dear, uhm, what is going on?”_ _

__“Go to her.” Roman whispered with a smile. Miss Willow nodded and walked up to the other woman._ _

__“Rosemary. There’s been something I’ve been wanting to tell you.” Roman nearly leapt over to the safe, to see the entirety of the safe door nearly folded in half and laying on the floor. Neo was shoveling the money into the bag as Roman decided against asking what happened._ _

__“I, I feel the same way Miss Willow.”_ _

__“Please, call me Emma.” Emma smiled. And then her smile turned to a frown._ _

__“Wait.” She swiveled her head just as Neo was zipping up the bag. “You two! Stop where you are!” Roman opened the window and the two hopped out._ _

__They ran through alley upon alley before finally reaching their hideout. The place was pretty decked out, blankets and pillows draped and nestled in a little fort like pattern. They even strung out little lights like stars in between. The place was an abandoned warehouse in a not very populated neighborhood, with roof access and several escape routes available. They had searched for ages for the perfect place, and it had become their haven._ _

__Neo pulled out some planks from the floor, revealing a little hole that had some trinkets and cash already in it. Neo plopped down the bag into the hole, and covered it back up. It was more money than the total that they had ever stolen in their whole career as criminals._ _

__“So, Neo, what do you want to do with the money?” Roman asked, plopping down on a bean bag chair, and opening a can of soda. Neo sat down in a small nest of pillows, after pushing away some books on asl, Neo and Roman had been learning it together, out of the way, and brought out her scroll._ _

____Froyo._ _ _ _

__Roman nodded as he looked up from his scroll. It was a good choice. He sighed, and settler deeper into his beanbag._ _

__“Have you ever thought about, y’know, leaving? Like leaving Mistral?” Neo looked at him quizzically. Roman nervously plucked at the soda tab._ _

__“I...I don’t want to be anywhere near my family anymore. I can’t do it. There’s nothing for me to do in this damn continent besides be the eternal family shame.” Roman pulled the tab off, looking startled as he did so. He sighed, and his voice softened. “...I accidentally looked into my mom’s eyes again. Two days ago.” Roman pulled at the hair over his eye, tugging it down, and he felt his eyes start to water. Roman’s scroll pinged and he looked down to see that Neo had sent him a picture of a cat. Roman snorted, and gave a half hearted smile. “Thanks.” He whispered._ _

__He looked back up, a little more determined this time. “I’ve done the math, and we just have to make a little more and then, well we could move to Vale, start a new life of crime somewhere where I don’t have to worry about them. Change our identities, own the criminal underbelly.” His smile grew wide and he clenched his fist in a victory pose above him. He lowered his fist. “If, if you would want to come with me I mean. I know it's asking a lot.” Roman’s scroll pinged._ _

____I would follow you anywhere._ _ _ _

__Roman smiled. “Then it’s a plan, the two best criminals go to take on the world!”_ _

____You do realize that I’m the only reason that plan worked._ _ _ _

__“Hey wait no, I helped.” Neo rolled her eyes and picked up a candy bar._ _

____Hey while we lay low, want to watch a movie?_ _ _ _

__“As long as it’s not a psychological horror, yes.”_ _

___Fine._ _ _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please, kusdos and comments are very much appretiated. Tell me what you like and don't like so I acutually keep writing.

**Author's Note:**

> More to come of other short stories from Roman's early years. Also killing Roman without any character work with him was cowardice and lazy writing. Comments and kudos are always appreciated and will help get out the next installment earlier.


End file.
